


Santa Baby

by ZpanSven



Series: A Ripple in Time [15]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Loss of Virginity, Older Man/Younger Woman, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4460393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZpanSven/pseuds/ZpanSven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its Christmas Eve and Carrie has something special in mind for Harrison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santa Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Early Christmas. I give you smut XD

If it wasn't for his ability to 'turn off' his connection to the Speed Force at will, Eobard's plans would have long since been discovered, simply by his accelerated healing. He had suffered genuine injuries the night the Particle Accelerator exploded and if he hadn't been him...well he really would be crippled in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. As it was, he was allowing himself to recover at the terribly slow rate of a normal human from the injuries he'd sustained a few nights before.

It was Christmas Eve and he sipped the eggnog Iris had made and Carrie had left in his refrigerator for him. The Christmas Tree that now dominated his living room was beautiful and he had enjoyed watching Carrie decorate it for him after Eddie had carted it in. The white lights twinkled out from behind the silver and gold tinsel and assorted ornaments – glass balls of red, gold, green, and silver.

Tonight was special. Carrie had mentioned a surprise for him and there was butterflies in his stomach for the first time in a terribly long time; she thought she was being sneaky slipping into his room with an overnight bag and if he hadn't been a speedster he probably wouldn't have noticed her actions.

Carrie peered out of his room, taking in the firelight that illuminated him as he regarded the tree. 

She could do this, she could do it--

Taking a breath, she left the safety of his room, approaching him, the high heels she wore clicking against the marble floors. At the sound, which was so different from the soothing Christmas music playing on the radio, he turned the chair to regard her.

And promptly dropped his glass.

The crackling blur that caught it was less graceful than she would have liked, but at least she caught it, even if she almost twisted her ankle doing it.

“We're all going to have to remember – I can't run in heels,” she quipped, setting the glass on his coffee table and stood up.

He was staring with blatant hunger; right now Eobard felt no need to conceal his wanting of the young woman standing before him in tall ivory high heels. She wore a nearly transparent robe of ivory silk with gold lace that glinted in the firelight. Through it, he could see the thigh-highs she wore and even hints of her nipples and the shadow at the apex of her thighs. 

Around her neck was that red ribbon from the Christmas party.

“Carrie,” he rasped her name, his voice was hoarse, deep with wanting.

It was all he could do to keep from standing, picking her up, and taking her to the bedroom...

“I couldn't think of what to get you for Christmas,” she told him with more bravado that she actually felt. “So I thought I'd give you me.”

Reaching out, he took her hand in his, pulling her to his lap and slanting his mouth over hers as the fingers of one hand tangled in her silky hair. She could feel his erection against her hip as her lips parted beneath his. A soft whimper escaped her, her arms loping around his heck as she all but melted against him.

A faint whimper escaped her when he lifted his head, a sound that turned into a breathy moan as he pressed hot kisses down her throat.

“You're all I have ever wanted,” he told her hoarsely.

And it was true. Even before he knew her, before she had even ever existed...she was everything he had ever wanted.

Lifting a hand to cup his face, she noticed it was vibrating and whined in embarrassment; she thought she had managed to get that under control as she was changing! His hand slid down from her hair, over her shoulder and down her arm, to her wrist to catch and still her hand.

“Focus on me. On what I make you feel. Nothing else,” he told her.

Leaving behind the living room, with its crackling fireplace and cheerful Christmas tree, they retreated to his bedroom, which was dimly lit by the light of a pair of tapered candles. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she watched him move his chair close to the her. Expecting him to join her on the bed, he surprised her by slipping his hands into her robe and placing them behind the bends of her knees, gently parting them as he leaned in.

His lips were hot through the thin nylon of her thigh-highs, trailing up the tender insides of her thigh. As his lips left the nylon and onto the actual skin, her breathing hitched and her hips squirmed, the bottom of the robe pooling around her hips on the dark gold duvet. 

The nylon rasped against the wool of his sweater as her legs were draped over his shoulders. Her insides were quivering as his breath ghosted between her thighs. A hot blush of embarrassment burned her cheeks at the whine that escaped her throat as his fingers gently stroked her wet folds. She fell back onto the bed, her hips arching in pleading.

The chuckle that he made was deep, throaty and then his fingers were spreading her folds and his mouth was there, hot and hungry. To her ears, the moan that left her sounded so terribly dirty as his tongue dragged over her clit as he slipped a finger gently inside her. He must have liked how she sounded, given he repeated the action to get that sound from her again.

Her trembling fingers laced into his hair, her eyes all but rolling back. That hot tongue and the skilled fingers that were slipping inside her had her writhing wantonly and arching her hips, thrusting against him while making all manner of noises.

For a speedster, time was a fickle and fluid thing so she really wasn't sure how long he was taking her apart, making her a pathetic mess of whimpering hormones until her body arched and she screamed wordlessly in climax. Panting for breath, she stared at the ceiling stupidly even as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh before taking his time to work a love-bite.

Her breathing calmed and she shifted, sitting back up as she felt him straighten. Scooting back a bit, she watched as the muscles of his arms and shoulders bunched under his black sweater as he placed them on the armrests, pushing himself up, holding his weight there. 

Shifting to her knees, she reached out gripping his waist and pulling him towards her; the muscles there were tight and tense before they tumbled together onto the bed, her robe tangling around them. They laid there for a moment before he pushed himself up onto an elbow, pulling his body fully onto the bed beside her. 

They maneuvered until he was sitting up by the headboard and had his back to the pillows. She crawled to his side, his eyes flickering to where her breasts swayed and her nipples pressed against the nearly transparent silk of her robe. Reaching out, his fingers undid the tie holding her robe together and she shimmied out of it. Giving him an impish grin, she took hold of the bottom of his sweater.

The sweater was discarded without care, just like her robe and she leaned in, trailing her lips and fingers over the powerful shoulders and chest the fabric had been concealing. She kissed down his chest while slipping down his body, settling between his legs as her fingers curled around the waistband of his jeans.

For a half a moment, she fumbled with the button and fly, unused to undoing the garments on another person. And then they were open and his erection, straining against the thin cotton of his boxer-briefs was revealed. 

Even though she'd had felt it pressing against her before, had ground against it...well it was another thing to see it, even if it was still concealed behind the thin cotton of his underwear. Scientifically, she knew the average size for a man while he was erect, even though she'd never seen it in person. 

He was larger than the average. It was a bit intimidating, but she had no intentions of stopping now. Not when she'd been reading up just for this particular moment.

As she pulled the jeans and boxer briefs down his hips, she leaned in and swiped her tongue up the underside and against the head. A guttural sound escaped him as the muscles of his abdomen twitched and she could feel his hand on the back of her head, his fingers lacing in her hair as he growled her name.

Tentative and delicate, she licked his length, tracing the veins on the underside before taking the head into her mouth, experimentally twirling her tongue around the glans. The taste and scent of him was musky, strong... then again its not like she had anything to compare it to. She liked it though. 

His fingers tightened in her hair as she explored him with her tongue and took him further into her mouth, giving an experiential hum around him. The guttural profanity that escaped him was both a surprise – she didn't know he swore – and a victory because she made him swear, in a good way.

“Carrie,” he growled her name again. She was tentative, uncertain yet curious...and it was wonderful. However he had no intentions of cumming in her mouth just yet. Gently he tugged on her hair, signaling for her to lift her head.

Timidly she peeked through the veil of her eyelashes at him; she didn't know when he removed his glasses but the way his eyes smoldered...the insides of her thighs quivered.

“Come here,” he ground out and her head lifted, her mouth leaving his length with a soft, wet pop.

It took all his control to not pin her to the bed, instead allowing her to crawl back to him, the nylons she wore rasping over the silk of the duvet. And it was quite tempting, the way she looked at him with pupils blown out to where he could only see the rings of blue, her face blushing just so, and her lips wet and parted---

She straddled his lap, her arms slipping around his neck as his hands settled on her hips. Leaning forward, he slanted his mouth over hers as his hands slid up over her waist and rib cage to cup and knead her breasts, skilled fingers plucking and rolling her nipples. Their lips parted as he dragged his mouth down in a hot trail down the neck she bared to him. Pausing, he nipped at the swell of her breast, working another love-bite there before drifting further.

A breathless sound escaped her as his lips closed over the hardened peak of one breast; his teeth scrapped gently over tender flesh and his mouth was so wonderfully hot. Her hips shifted, squirmed until the head of his erection was nudging against the wet folds of her opening.

A guttural sound escaped him, his hands going back down to her hips and she whined softly at the loss of his hands on her breasts. His head lifted and when their eyes locked, pushed her hips down enough for the head to slip inside her. A stuttering gasp escaped her as she clenched around him in surprise. Leaning forward, he kissed her again though his eyes remained open, so all she could see was that smoldering, piercing blue as he pushed her hips down again in one sudden movement.

There was a slight pain as her hymen tore and she gripped his shoulders tightly, her breathing harsh and shuddering as she sat there, seated with him fully inside her. A hand shifted, slipping from holding her hip to between them, his thumb finding her clit and rolling gently to stimulate it. A throaty growl escaped him as she clenched around his length in response.

She shifted her hips slightly, lifting up and then down. The guttural way he groaned her name against her lips was encouraging and she repeated the action again with more confidence. Her arms looped around his shoulders and he held her to him; he watched her head fall back and lips part, breathy keening escaping her as she moved, finding a rhythm that was as as instinctive and natural as breathing.

His lips found her throat again, trailing over and leaving various bites that despite the fervor he applied them and the darkness that they would have, would only last an hour or so. The feel of those possessive bites caused her to whimper and increase her pace. His hand slid up from between them, keeping both hands firmly on her hips to keep a level of control over her speed.

For him, there was nothing more beautiful than the was she looked atop him, her head back and body arching as she rode him – her lips parted with breathy gasps, face flushed with want. For her, his expression made her tremble – eyes bright and hungry, focused intently on her as his fingers dug into her hips with bruising force.

As she was about to reach that peak, his name about to cross her lips, he kissed her roughly, swallowing her cry as she clung to him. Shuddering, she could feel him as he lost his hold on his own control – the fact she involuntarily vibrated at climax seemed to send him over as he gave a guttural growl.

Slumping against him, she nuzzled his throat drowsily as he wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning back against the pillows and headboard of his bed. She'd probably want to eat twenty-five Big Belly burgers when she woke up but...it'd be worth it.

“I love you,” she mumbled against his throat.

“I love you, Carrie... There isn't a man who received a better Christmas surprise than I have...”

Smiling sleepily, she snuggled atop him, her eyes drifting closed.

As her breathing evened out, Eobard smiled to himself as he pressed his lips to her temple, his fingers trailing up and down her spine possessively. 

Best Christmas ever.


End file.
